Down the path there lies a tree, rusted tin and ware for three

I write to no one and an improvisation that doesn't exist is being created. I've unglued myself from myself. And I want disarticulation, for only in it am I myself in the world. Only in it do I feel well. Feel well. I, in my solitude, am almost going to explode.

Clarice Lispector, from “The Stream Of Life”.

David Bowie and his painting of Yukio Mishima

Abandoned too soon
Set down with due care
Don't walk away in silence
Don't walk away

Another day in paradise, Thomas Ott

 Al Pacino in “The Godfather - Part II”, 1974

Anxiety, Andy Rementer

Saorise Ronan photographed by Beau Grealy for Variety

Oliver Czarnetta - Spektrum, 2019

Tattoo depicting Yama-uba and Kintarō by Japanese Tattoo artist, Horiuno Ⅲ From Martha Cooper's "Tokyo Tattoo" photobook, 1970.

Jean Cocteau--my artist friend since our early days--let himself be guided throughout his full life by the principle: "I love to love. I hate hatred." With all my heart I agree with that, and I have never lost faith in the good. This is a source of strength for my work. Once Cocteau said to me: "Your work contains the fire of the image of man--like the Phoenix . . . " I believe in this light. It will not be extinguished.”

- Arno Breker

Marcello Mastroianni in Milan, 1960

A Dadaist Manifesto (1920)

"He pained, shifting his attention toward the mirror across the road. Back into his daydream. The spliff burned his fingers the second he drank, and he tossed it toward the gutter. The smoke burned into his eyes, blinding him. As he blinked through the tears, the pain began to recede. Back down the promenade and homeward bound, as he approached the intersection of Brooklyn and Lakeshore, a flock of geese burst from the darkness and flew, shrieking into what was left of the evening."